Song of a Shirt
by yorozuyagaren
Summary: In retrospect, Flynn realized that he was probably overdressed for the year and a half reunion picnic. Yuri, meanwhile, looked like he hadn't changed his clothes in over a year. Post-game, spoilers if you squint, brief mention of Ristelle.


This was inspired by a conversation I had with my Flynn!plushie, who is quite human and not made of fabric, and who I frequently fall into Yuri-mode with.

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><p>Song of a Shirt<p>

In retrospect, Flynn realized that he was probably overdressed for the year and a half reunion picnic. It wasn't his fault, after all. In the eighteen months since defeating the Adephagos, he'd seldom had the occasion to be out of armour, and what little he had in the way of personal clothing was mostly workclothes and not really fit for a gathering with people he didn't see very often.

_Still_, he mused, _it is better to be overdressed than underdressed_. And it looked like everyone else had taken some time to at least look in a mirror before showing up. _Well, almost everyone_, he amended. Rita was her usual scruffy and dirt-smudged self, though in the time since Flynn had seen her last, she had acquired a whole pair of leggings and a canvas work-apron. At the sight of her lover, Estelle gave a long suffering sigh and steered the protesting mage off in the direction of their cottage to "tidy up". Yuri, meanwhile, looked like he hadn't changed his clothes in over a year, and Flynn suspected that with Estelle gone, no one else was likely to call him on it.

"Yuri, how long have you been wearing that shirt?" Flynn asked.

Yuri glanced down and shrugged. "Dunno. Is something wrong with it?"

"You've had it for years." It had several neatly mended tears, Flynn noticed, though none so large as the one in the left abdominal area. Flynn tried not to think about what had caused that one.

"So? I'm covered, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but-" _You're__ a__ hero now.__You__ should__ wear __nicer __things__ once __in__ a__ while._

"Then it's fine." Yuri waved dismissively, the discussion over as far as he was concerned.

Flynn swatted the raised hand, grouchy at his friend's lack of interest in his own appearance. "Are you even _able_ to fasten it properly?"

"No, it fits weird when I fasten it more." _And__ it __lets__ people__ see __your __muscles __so __they__ won't __think __you're __a __woman,_ Flynn mentally finished for him, recalling a conversation from years before. _At__ least __that's__ what__ you__ said __the __last__ time__ I__ asked__ you,__ so..._

"I think that's because because it's too small on you."

"No way, I haven't grown in two years," he said with a short laugh, much to Flynn's confusion.

"You've had that shirt since before we joined the Knights," Flynn pointed out, feeling a headache beginning to form. "And that was five years ago."

"All the more reason to hold onto it, then," Yuri proclaimed. "We've been through a lot together, me and this shirt." He patted his linen-clad abdomen for emphasis, smiling fondly.

Flynn sighed, rubbing his temples. He'd forgotten just how aggravating his best friend could be.

"You have other clothes," he insisted. "I know you do. I gave you a full suit of them just before the battle against the Adephagos. Why are you still wearing the same thing?"

The smile faded, along with Yuri's joking mood. "I could have dressed up for this," he agreed. "I could have worn that silly uniform Estelle let you hand off to her. I think she still has it. And I do have another shirt that fits properly, and hasn't been mended fifty-million times." Just in case the blond had thought Yuri had been serious about not noticing that the shirt was too small. "But it wouldn't mean anything."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Flynn hadn't the faintest idea.

Yuri paused, scrunching his mouth. Flynn recognized the expression as him attempting to put into words an explanation that would make sense to someone who couldn't see into his head, an endeavor that wasn't always successful.

"This is the shirt I was wearing when I went to the Royal Quarter to look for a core thief," he began. "And I wore it, slept in it, fought in it, bled on it, and barely got to wash it for the next four months. After Zaude... I thought about leaving it home, and grabbing my other one. But it didn't seem right. I'd started the journey in this shirt, and I felt like I should finish it the same way. And now that it's over, it's almost like the shirt's become part of what happened, so I try to wear it when I see you lot. I almost never wear it otherwise."

Flynn wasn't sure how to react. Yuri was not known for being any sort of emotional, and this sort of sentimentality was almost unheard of for him.

"So, you're saying that you deliberately wore a stained, outgrown, torn-up shirt instead of something nicer," he said slowly. "Because you felt that it was part of the adventure that this picnic is supposed to commemorate."

"Yah, more or less." Yuri grinned sheepishly. "It's dumb, isn't it."

"It's not dumb at all," Flynn told him. "And with the explanation, it's even kind of sweet-" No, sweet wasn't the right word. Not for this. But Flynn couldn't think of a better one, and he hoped Yuri would understand. "It's thoughtful. Which is more common than you'll admit to, and don't get me started on that. I'm glad you saw fit to explain your actions rather than just letting everyone think the worst.

"But next time, Yuri? Please wear a nicer shirt."

Yuri chuckled. "Fair enough, I'll retire it for good. I'll ask Estelle if she'll help me frame it."

Flynn couldn't help but laugh.


End file.
